


A Whisper In The Darkness

by Anonymous



Category: The Nice Guys (2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It was just a whimper and not even a loud one but Jackson Healy had years of waking up in an instant under his belt so he blinked awake and then lay there listening.Just a little Healy and Holly domestic fluff with a cameo for March.





	A Whisper In The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Elton John/Bernie Taupin Song "Voyeur"

It was just a whimper and not even a loud one but Jackson Healy had years of waking up in an instant under his belt so he blinked awake and then lay there listening, trying to determine if there was a threat or if it was just the house settling.

The next whimper confirmed it wasn’t the house and he rolled off the couch and on to his feet nearly soundlessly; an ability to move quietly was an asset in his line of work with the added benefit that no one seemed to expect a man of his stature to be able to pull it off.

He was most of the way down the hall when the whimpers became words, “Dad! Daddy NO!” Healy froze; if Holly was calling March he should probably go back to the couch and pretend to be asleep. Except that he had dragged March to bed, passed out drunk a few hours ago and the chances of him responding the fairly quiet summons weren’t high.

He hesitated for another minute and then there was a sob and his feet were moving before his mind had quite caught up. He pushed the door open slowly and was confronted by the sight of Holly, clearly in the middle of the nightmare, twisting around in her bed and crying for her Dad.

Healy quietly crossed to the bed and then knelt beside it, he knew how intimidating he looked and while that was usually helpful it was the last thing he wanted right now. “Holly? Holly, wake up you’re having a nightmare” 

He pitched his voice low as he laid a very careful hand on her knee; he hated waking up to someone’s hand on his shoulder, not that it happened often but the invasion of personal space always felt so much worse in those first few moments of consciousness. 

Holly whimpered again, crying, “No please not Daddy!” and Healy shook her leg gently again, “Holly? Come on sweetie it’s time to wake up”

She suddenly sat up, breathing hard and blinking at him, “Mr. Healy?” 

Healy nodded, “Yeah, I slept over on the couch remember?”

Holly nodded and scrubbed her arm over her eyes, “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

She sounded so young and scared despite clearly trying hard to be brave that it broke Jackson’s heart, “If you did I’m glad” he said sincerely before adding, “Nightmares are pretty scary sometimes…”

There was a chocked sob and then Holly launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. Healy grunted as a sharp knee caught him in the stomach before getting carefully to his feet and carrying her to the living room. He got the sense it might take a while for her to calm down and the last thing they needed was for March to wake up in a drunken panic to the sound of his daughter sobbing her eyes out.

He sat down on the couch, settling her somewhat awkwardly across his lap. Holly clung tightly to his neck and he rubbed her back, humming bits of songs softly into her hair and letting her cry herself out on his shoulder. 

She cried for a long time, long enough that Healy decided he was definitely going to make her drink a glass of water before she went back to bed, but he didn’t try and stop her. 

She was a tough kid, he’d almost never seen her cry and that wasn’t healthy, especially with the sort of crazy situations she’d been in and how often her father nearly got himself killed. So he just held her and let her soak the shoulder of his shirt as much as she wanted.

Finally she was sniffling not sobbing into his shoulder and Jackson drew back slightly looking down at her, “Better?”

Holly nodded, “Yeah” she sounded stuffed up and exhausted and Healy tightened his grip slightly, “Do you want to tell me what happened? In your nightmare I mean”

Holly shivered and snuggled closer but stayed quiet for several minutes before whispering, “Dad died, there was a fire and…it was like Mum except that it was Dad and I was all alone!”

She started to cry again and Healy thought his heart might actually be in pieces as he ran his hand over the back of her head, “Christ. You know your Dad’s safe right?” Holly nodded and he looked down trying to catch her eye, “And you’ll never be alone even if something bad happens. I’ll be here for as long as you want okay?”

Holly gaped at him for a minute and then shyly kissed his cheek, “You’re the best Uncle Jack”

“I’m your only Uncle Jack.” He said with mock solemnity and she giggled but said sincerely, “I wouldn’t want any one else, I love you Uncle Jack” 

Jackson looked down at her tear streaked face swallowing hard against the swell of emotion building in his chest and kissed her forehead gently, “I love you too sweetie”

Holly smiled and laid her head on his dry shoulder, clearly exhausted. Healy smiled softly and they stayed like that for a few minutes before he got carefully to his feet and carried her to the kitchen, setting her on the counter as if she were half her age while he got her a glass of water.

Once she had finished it and washed her face they stood hand in hand in the small hallway, “You okay to go back to sleep now?” He asked softly and Holly nodded but Healy could easily read her reluctance, “Or we could watch some late night TV?”

Holly beamed at him and Healy squeezed her hand gently, “Go and grab your comforter, I’ll get us some more water.” Which was why March found them both sleeping on the couch when he stumbled out of the bathroom 4 hours later. 

Healy was sitting up, his head tipped back snoring, while Holly was curled up on her side covered in her comforter her head resting on his thigh, holding one of his hands with both of hers as if she were little again and he was her own personal security blanket.

Holland March definitely did not tear up and if he did well it was late and whatever, it didn’t count before there was no one there to tattle on him.


End file.
